The Slytherin and the Sorcerer's Stone
by Myshipshipsitself
Summary: What would have happened if Harry hadn't run into Ron and his family at the train station? What if he'd run into Lucius and Draco instead? Would he still be the Chosen One? Or would he be just another Death Eater in training?
1. Malfoy Draco Malfoy

Title: The Slytherin and the Sorcerer's Stone  
>Chapter: 1?  
>Rating: G (Will go up to PG-13)<br>Warning(s): Possibly mild language  
>Summary: What would have happened if Harry hadn't run into Ron and his family at the train station? What if he'd run into Lucius and Draco instead? Would he still be the Chosen One? Or would he be just another Death Eater in training?<br>Disclaimer: I own nothing. Like literally. Even the plot? Not mine. I twisted J.K. Rowling's plots from the books.  
>Author's Note: For those who have seen the movies but not read the books, I'll clarify one thing: When harry was in Diagon Alley, he met Draco in Madam Malkin's Rob Shop. No names were exchanged, only a few words and insults at Hagrid's expense. This isn't shown in the movies, but is referenced in this story briefly. I didn't want to just rewrite that part, so I'll be starting this story where it begins to differ from J.K. Rowling's.<p>

"Platform nine and three-quarters?" the man sneered at Harry. "Think you're being funny?"

Before Harry could explain that he was serious about the inquiry, he left. Harry stood motionless in the train station, eyes looking from one platform to the next. Maybe Uncle Vernon had been right. But that couldn't be. Hagrid wouldn't have told him the wrong platform.

For a moment he wondered if this had all been one fantastic joke. But that wasn't right either. He'd seen magic. He'd seen brooms and wands and spell books in Diagon Alley. That would have to be one rather extreme prank if it had been one.

"Ridiculous that we have to blend in with these muggles." Harry looked around when he heard a familiar voice. Not that he was entirely pleased about ever hearing that boy again, but it at least meant he hadn't dreamed all of this.

Sure enough, when Harry looked over his shoulder, a head of bleach blonde hair shone over the heads of many others. But, no. That head was much too tall, and the hair was too long. Ah, there. About a foot shorter than the man was the face Harry was searching for. He looked back up at the taller man. Must be his father. And judging by the long black robe that Harry had seen wizards wearing in Diagon Alley, he didn't care much if he blended in or not.

"Hey!" Harry called, jogging over to the pair. The boy looked over at him, seemingly annoyed at having his rant interrupted. "Glad I ran into you again."

"And who are you?" the taller man asked, narrowing his eyes at Harry.

"It's alright, father," the boy said, earning a sharp glare from the man. The boy ignored his father though, and addressed Harry, his expression softening slightly. "You're the one that was hanging around with the giant, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Harry said hurriedly. "I met you in Madam Malkin's."

"This is all very touching," the man said with a sneer. "But the train will be leaving in seven minutes with or without you two."

"Right, um," Harry started. "That's actually why I'm glad I ran into you. I don't know how—I mean. Where's the platform?"

The man's lips made a thin line, and Harry could tell he was losing what little patience he had very quickly. He turned, the black robe whipping around his body as he continued the way he and his son had been walking before Harry stopped them. The boy turned to follow his father, and Harry's shoulders slumped in disappointment. The boy looked over his shoulder though, and nodded for Harry to follow them, a trace of a smile on his face as he turned back.

Harry followed a few paces behind them, and watched as they both walked swiftly towards the brick wall between platforms nine and ten. Just as he was about to call to them to stop, they disappeared through the wall. Harry's eyes widened, and he looked around to see if anyone else had noticed.

No one seemed to care that two people had just disappeared through a brick wall, so Harry shrugged and walked towards it. He looked down at Hedwig, giving her an apologetic smile, before he started for the wall at a jog. He closed his eyes and waited for the impact, but it never came. Instead, he felt like he was passing through a cool mist, then heard a train horn and a hundred voices around him.

When he opened his eyes, Harry saw the long scarlet engine on the train tracks, and students hugging their parents and boarding the train.

"Quickly now, everyone on board!" A man, whom Harry assumed was the conductor, was calling and shepherding students on board. Harry glanced around for the blonde, but only saw his father, already walking away from the train. Harry hurried towards the train and got on, eyes searching form one compartment to the next for a place to sit. After walking for a little while, he saw the blonde boy sitting in one compartment with two other boys sitting across from him.

Harry pushed the door open and stuck his head in. "Mind if I sit here?" he asked. "Everywhere else is full." The two that Harry didn't recognize him just stared at him in confusion. The blonde gestured to the seat next to him.

Harry smiled his thanks and shoved his trunk into the overhead compartment. He sat down next to the blonde and set Hedwig's cage on his other side.

"I'm Malfoy," the blonde said, extending his hand towards Harry. "Draco Malfoy."

Harry almost commented on the odd way of introducing himself, but decided that James Bond was probably just a muggle thing, and Draco wouldn't understand the reference, so he just shook Draco's hand without comment. "Harry Potter."

Draco's hand froze and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. Even the two boys sitting across from him, who Harry had assumed to be a bit dim from the looks on their faces, sat up a bit at the name. Harry shifted uncomfortably. A lot of people had given him the same looks when he was in Diagon Alley and the Leaky Cauldron, but he still wasn't used to it.

"Harry Potter," Draco repeated. He released Harry's hand and gestured to his forehead. "You have the scar, then?"

Harry nodded and pushed back his hair to show the scar. Draco looked mildly impressed, which, from what Harry knew of Draco so far, was something worth noting.

"This is Crabbe," Draco said, gesturing to the shorter of the two boys sitting across from them. "And that's Goyle."

"Nice to meet you," Harry said politely, only earning more stares from the two.

"They don't talk much," Draco said. "So, where've you been since your parents died?" he asked shamelessly.

Harry was bit taken aback by the question. "Um, sorry. What do you mean?"

"No one in the wizarding world's seen of heard of you since that night," Draco said. "My father said You-Know-Who's followers offed you years ago."

"No," Harry said, gesturing to himself as a whole and laughing slightly. "Still alive. I was with my aunt and uncle. They're muggles. Didn't even know I was a wizard til Hagrid showed up."

"Wouldn't be bragging about that too much around here, if I was you," Draco said. "Course, everyone knows all about you anyway. Knows your not pureblood."

"Pureblood?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, all magical blood in the family," Draco said. "My family's pureblood. One of the only ones left, I reckon."

"What's it matter?" Harry asked. "Are purebloods more powerful than those that aren't?"

"Of course," Draco said, as though any indication on the contrary was the most horrible of insults. He seemed to think for a moment, then leaned closer to Harry. Harry leaned in to hear what he had to say. "Well, they say that You-Know-Who was halfblood. But I reckon anyone that pointed that out to Him would be killed on the spot."

"Isn't He dead, though?" Harry asked. "So why's everyone still afraid to say his name?"

Draco smirked. "Some say he's dead," he whispered. "Fools, if you ask me." Draco leaned back with a smirk, and looked out the window. "We'll be there soon, I expect. Should change into our robes."

The rest of the train ride passed mostly in silence, besides Harry asking what he was sure were very stupid questions, though Draco didn't seem to mind.

Draco talked about the lake when the four of them crossed over in the boat, and told some story about a giant squid that Harry was pretty sure he was making up. But then, if someone had told him any of this a week ago, he'd have said they were making that up as well.

The castle stood tall, like a dark silhouette against a barely lighter night sky. "This is Hogwarts?" he asked in an undertone, leaning closer to Draco.

Draco nodded. "Home for the next few months," he said.

Compared to where he'd lived with aunt and uncle, he wouldn't care if this were his home forever, but decided not to say that out loud.

A woman in a dark robe led the group into a large entrance hall, and stopped them all before a pair of tall, dark oak doors. She started talking, repeating mostly what Draco had told Harry about the school. Four houses, something about house points, and the sorting ceremony.

Somewhere halfway through her speech, a boy yelled out, "Trevor!" He then proceeded to run forward and scoop a toad off of the floor in front of Professor McGonagall. He sheepishly stepped back into the crowd, amid laughs from the other students. Harry hid his laugh with a cough, though Draco wasn't as subtle.

A few minutes later, Professor McGonagall led them into the Great Hall, and lined them up against one wall. She called them each by name, and they walked forward to be sorted. Crabbe and Goyle were both sorted into Slytherin, and Malfoy after them. When his name was called, Harry glanced over at Slytherin table. Most of the students there, and around the hall, looked surprised, and then Harry realized why: his name. He was starting to hate it as of late. Draco was one of the few who didn't looked surprised, but just offered him what could be interpreted as either an encouraging smile, or a smirk, though Harry couldn't tell which from this far away. But probably the latter.

Harry took a breath and walked forward, sinking onto the stool and closing his eyes. After a moment, nothing happened, and Harry wondered, not for the first time, if there had been a mistake. McGonagall would snatch the hat form his head, claim there had been a mix up, and put him back on the train.

"Difficult," a voice said quietly, making Harry gasp. "Very difficult." A moment later, Harry realized it was the hat talking, though it didn't seem like anyone else could hear it. "Smart, very smart. Fiercely loyal. Brave, and cunning as well. But where to put you."

Harry bit his lip, waiting in silence for the hat to make a decision. Finally, after what seemed like an hour though he was sure it had been no longer than a few seconds, a name echoed out through the Great Hall: "Slytherin!"


	2. Flying Lessons

A/N: So, Crabbe and Goyle bore me, and I hate Pansy, so I was racking my brain for another Slytherin to bring in as Draco and Harry's friend. I finally remembered Blaise, and I think he's a cool character, so he's introduced in this chapter. Also, I don't think Flint was a prefect in the books, but for my purposes in this story, he is.

Disclaimer: Any quotes from "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone," whether direct or summarized, were unintentional, and I have no right to them. Or to this story at all in fact; the characters, and even the plot belong to JK Rowling.

###

Breakfast the first morning at Hogwarts proved to have nearly as much food as the feast last night, complete with a heart attack upon consumption. At least, for Harry it did. Apparently the other students, Draco included, were completely familiar with owls flying at them carrying letters.

As he was eating, Harry couldn't help but feel uneasy. His eyes moved to the long table where the teachers were seated. A man with shaggy, greasy black hair and a hooked nose that looked like he was forever disgusted by something was staring at him. No, glaring at him might be a better term.

Harry winced slightly, the scar on his forehead stinging. He rubbed at it, his eyes never moving away from the teacher. After a moment, he elbowed Draco.

"Who's that?" Harry asked, nodding towards the teacher. "The one on Dumbledore's right side."

"That's Professor Snape," Draco said. "Head of Slytherin house."

"Why's he looking at me like that?" Harry asked.

Draco just shrugged. "My father knows him," he said. "Says Snape doesn't really like anyone. He'll favor us over the other houses during class, though. " Harry didn't respond, and after a moment he felt a sharp pain on his right side.

"The hell was that for?" he snapped at Draco.

"Don't worry about him," Draco said, looking at Harry strangely. "What's with you?"

"Nothing," Harry muttered. Thankfully, Blaise dropped into the seat across from them at that moment, forcing Draco to drop the subject.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Blaise asked, piling eggs and hash browns onto his plate. Harry had met Blaise the night before. He was sharing the dormitory with him, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Thought you could use the beauty rest," Draco said, earning a rude gesture from Blaise. Draco just laughed and returned to the mail he'd received. He glanced at the cover of a newspaper, then set it aside and picked up a wrapped package that Harry assumed was from his parents.

"Can I see that?" Harry asked, pointing at the newspaper that had "The Daily Prophet" written across the top of it.

"Have at it," Draco said, distracted as he pulled random candies from the package while trying to keep Blaise from stealing them.

Harry picked up the paper, his eyes latching onto the article on the front page. "Gringotts Break-In" was plastered across the front page, above a photograph of the inside of Gringotts. Now accustomed to seeing photographs move, Harry ignored the goblins that were working in the picture, and skipped down to the article.

"Draco," Harry hissed, elbowing the blonde. "Did you hear about this?"

Draco glanced over, eyes skimming the article. "Weird," he said, sounding disinterested. "No one's ever broke into Gringott's. Well, not escaped anyway. Nothing was taken though. Don't know why they're making a big deal out of it."

"Nothing was taken because the vault was empty," Harry said. "It had been emptied the same day that someone tried to break into it. The same day Hagrid and I were there."

Draco looked at Harry for a moment. "You know something about this?" He asked in an undertone.

Harry glanced around, making sure no one else at the table was listening. When he turned back, Draco and Blaise were both leaning towards him.

"When Hagrid and I were there, we went to another vault besides mine," Harry whispered. "There was just something small in it. A wrapped parcel or something. Hagrid took it, but he wouldn't tell me what it was. Said it was very important Hogwarts business."

"You think it was the same vault?" Blaise asked.

Harry shrugged. "Must've been," he said quietly. "Whatever it was, Hagrid said that he had to bring it here. Better protection at Hogwarts."

"Wonder what it was," Draco said.

"I dunno," Blaise said. "But if we're about to be late for Charms if we don't hurry."

###

The first two classes passed without much interest, which disappointed Harry. He couldn't make the feather float in Charms class, (though it made him feel better that only one girl from Gyffindor actually accomplished it,) and Herbology had to be the most boring class ever, including all the Muggle classes he'd been forced to take, (because it didn't matter what argument was made: repotting and fertilizing plants, even if they were plants to be used in magical potions, didn't count as magic.)

The next class at least sounded much more promising.

"Slow down," Draco said. "Even if you get out to the field an hour before everyone else, class won't start for another hour."

"But we're learning to fly!" Was what Harry actually said. Through the mouth of food, though, it sounded more like, "Gu werr lerdig do fie!"

"Right," Draco said slowly.

Harry forced down the mouthful of food and looked up at Draco expectantly. "Aren't you excited?" Harry asked. "I always thought broomsticks and flying was just— Well, I guess it's not such a big thing to you."

"My father taught me to fly a few years ago," Draco said. "It's fun. But that still doesn't change the fact that inhaling your lunch, then running full speed out to the field is a bad idea."

"Aww, Draco," Harry said with a smirk. "Almost sounds like you care."

Draco answered by shoving him in the shoulder and turning back to his own food. "You puke on me, and I'll have to kill you. And that would be a shame. I'd be stuck with only Crabbe and Goyle for company."

Harry laughed. "I'll try and aim the other way then."

###

"Everyone step up beside your brooms," Madam Hooch called down the line. Everyone stepped up to one of the brooms lined up on the ground. Draco was standing to Harry's left, and the Gryffindor girl from Charms class to his right. "Now, put your right hand over the broom, and say 'Up!'"

"Up!" Harry said, the broom jumped directly into his hand. Draco's jumped to his hand on the third try. The Gryffindor girl beside him was having a harder time, and looking frustrated.

Harry remembered the girl from Herbology as well. She had started rambling about the magical properties of the plants, and he'd seen her pointing out something to the Gryffindors in a book at breakfast that morning. Harry smirked slightly. Seemed she wasn't too good at anything that involved more physical activity than opening a book or waving a wand.

"Too bad you can't memorize this out of a book," Harry muttered with a slight smirk, glancing sideways at her. He heard Draco laugh from his other side. The girl glared at him, and Harry wondered for a moment if she was about to pick up the broom just to hit him with it.

But she just looked back at the broom and screamed, "UP!" The fourth try of this actually had the broom in her hand. Harry wondered vaguely if the broom had feelings and only came to her because it was afraid of her.

"Alright, everyone got your brooms," Madam Hooch called. "Now, mount your brooms. That's it. On the count of three, kick off lightly from the ground. Just enough to get you a couple inches in the air. Hover there for a moment, then lean forward and touch down on the ground. Ready? One, two—"

Before she'd even finished counting, a Gryffindor boy was already several feet in the air. Harry recognized him as the boy with the toad.

"Mr. Longbottom!" Madam Hooch called. Longbottom continued to rise through the air, though. Harry could hear the scared whimpering from the boy. Draco was shaking with silent laughter, as well as Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise. When Longbottom managed to finally turn his broom downwards, only to fly headlong into a tree trunk, Harry had to hide his own laugh behind a cough.

"Oh, oh, dear, come here," Madam Hooch said as she rushed over to him, cradling a broken wrist in her hand. "Alright, let's get you to the hospital wing." She helped him stand and they started towards the castle. Madam Hooch called over her shoulder, "And anyone without both feet on the ground will be on the train home this afternoon."

After the two had disappeared into the castle, Draco walked over to where Longbottom had landed. He picked up what looked like a glass ball from the ground and bounced it in his hand. "So this is what that fat lard's gran sent him," Draco said with a laugh. "Lot of good it did him. Reminding him to hit a tree and all. Did everyone a favor."

"Give it here, Malfoy," a red-haired boy growled, walking towards Draco. Harry guessed he was one of the Wealseys. Draco had said that his father worked with theirs at the Ministry. It was a family with too many kids, and a disgrace to the name pureblood, from what Draco had told him.

Draco just laughed, mounting his broom and kicking off from the ground. He hung just above the tree, amid whispers and gasps from the students. "What's wrong, Weasley?" he called. "Afraid of heights?"

Weasley mounted his broom, shaking off genius-girl's hand when she tried to stop him, and kicked off into the air. Harry could tell his family was pureblood, or at least he'd grown up around wizards, from the way he could handle the broom almost as well as Draco.

"Give it back," Weasley yelled. "I'll knock you off that broom, Malfoy."

"Like to see you try," Malfoy said with a smirk. As Weasley started flying at Draco, Harry swung onto his broom as well.

"Don't," Blaise said. "Draco can handle— Stupid git," Harry barely heard the last words muttered under Blaise's breath as he kicked off from the ground.

"Hey, Weasley!" Harry called. Weasley turned back for a just a second, just long enough that Draco could fly to the right, out of the boy's way. "Too slow, Weasley," Draco called, smirking at the redhead.

"You wish, Malfoy," Weasley said.

"Alright, then," Draco said. "Catch!" Draco tossed the glass ball in Harry's direction, though he overshot it by a couple hundred feet.

Harry raced towards it, Weasley just behind him. He could vaguely hear people yelling from the ground, and noticed that Weasley fell back. Harry just put on another burst of speed, wondering why the yelling was getting louder, and finally caught the glass ball. A Rememberall, he was pretty sure someone had called it earlier.

He grinned, looking back down, to where Draco and Weasley had already landed. But something was wrong. Weasley was laughing, and Draco and Blaise were yelling at him, along with the rest of the Slytherins. Harry started towards the ground, listening for what they were yelling. He didn't have to try too hard, though, as he finally looked towards the castle to see a Slytherin fifth year walking towards them, a badge reading "Prefect" pinned to his chest.

"Harry, is it?" the prefect, (Marcus Flint, he was pretty sure,) scowled at him. "Come with me," eh said without waiting for an answer. Harry didn't dare look at any of the students, Slytherin or Gryffindor, as he followed Marcus, head down as he dragged the broomstick behind him. He briefly went over in his mind everything he would need to pack for the train ride. It wasn't much.

###

Blaise and Draco were sitting in the common room waiting for Harry when he got back.

"What happened?" Draco demanded, standing up and walking towards him, Blaise a few steps behind him.

"Did you get expelled?" Blaise asked.

"No," Harry muttered, still slightly in shock. "Marcus took me to Snape's office. To get approval."

"Approval for what?" Draco asked.

"Apparently he needed approval to put me on the Quidditch team," Harry said. "Being a first year and all."

"You're kidding," Blaise said, grinning and slapping him on the back. "What position?"

"Seeker," Harry said.

"Why didn't I get on the Quidditch team?" Draco demanded. "That was good throw. Should've been made a Chaser."

"You overshot it by over a hundred feet," Harry said.

Draco still looked unhappy, but just said, "So when's practice?"


	3. Names and Blood

A/N: Sorry this took me so long to update. Been busy with work and real life and all. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter.

By the end of the week, Draco had turned his anger from Harry towards Marcus. No matter how many times Harry told him that he'd only gotten the position because the team was desperate for a Seeker, Malfoy continued to complain that Marcus had no reason to not let him be a Chaser on the team.

But Draco had ceased to blame Harry for this injustice, so Harry didn't argue too much with him. Draco had even resorted to giving him flying tips and loaning him books about famous Quidditch players. A couple nights when Harry didn't have Quidditch practice, Draco had even gone out to the pitch with him and enchanted acorns to fly around for harry to try and catch. Harry had argued that the acorns were much smaller than the snitch, but Draco just pointed out that if he could catch an acorn, the snitch would be much easier.

It was the second Saturday since school had started, and Harry couldn't be more thrilled. Blaise had gotten a couple of the older Slytherins to loan him their brooms, so he, Harry and Draco were all going to pitch today.

"Afterwards, we should go see Hagrid," Harry said offhandedly at breakfast.

"That oaf you were with in Diagon Alley?" Draco asked in disgust.

Harry glared at him. "He's not an oaf," he said. "Hagrid's a good friend. You should give him a chance."

"Stupid half-blood giant," Draco muttered under his breath, turning back to his food and spearing a sausage on the end of his fork.

"I wish you'd stop that," Harry said.

"Stop what?" Draco snapped.

"All this nonsense over half-blood and pureblood," Harry said. "My mum was Muggleborn. So that makes me half-blood, or something, right?"

"It's not the same," Draco said.

"Why not?" Harry asked.

"Because you're Harry Potter," Draco said.

"What's that have to do with anything?" Harry asked.

Draco sighed exasperatedly. "Harry, there's two things that matter in your standing in the wizarding world," he said, as though explaining to a toddler why the sky was blue. "Name and blood. You don't have to have both. But your name is probably the most powerful in our world. So your blood doesn't matter."

"That's stupid," Harry said. "Famous for something I don't even remember. A name so well-known and more powerful than any other just because Voldemort couldn't kill me when I was a year old."

Draco flinched when harry said the name aloud. "I take it back," Draco said. "Yours is the second most powerful name. People aren't afraid to say it."

"You shouldn't be afraid to say it either," Harry said. Draco just gave a noncommittal grunt and wouldn't meet Harry's eye. Harry wondered vaguely if there was more to the story, but didn't bother to ask. "Names and blood," Harry said after a moment. "Seems a stupid way to decide class and status."

"It's not always one or the other, though," Draco said. "Yeah, you and You-Know-Who just need the name. Neither of you are pureblood. But, remember I told you about the Weasleys? They're a pureblood family, but they couldn't be any less the rest of us."

"And Malfoy is a powerful name, I'm guessing?" Harry asked. He still didn't entirely understand this concept. But then, maybe things worked like this in the Muggle world as well. Maybe he'd just never noticed.

"The most well-known and respected of the pureblood families left," Draco said proudly. "That and Black, though there are a few blights on that side of the family tree."

Harry wanted to ask what he meant by that, but didn't get a chance. A second later a dark black owl landed on the table, the long thin package in its claws knocking over his and Draco's drinks.

"Damn," Draco muttered. He glared at the bird, and then his expression changed. "Father must've sent this," he said, reaching towards the owl. The owl snapped at his finger. Draco jerked his hand back, glaring at the owl. "What's gotten into you?"

The owl just snapped its beak threateningly, and then turned its beady eyes towards Harry. Only then did Harry look down at the package. A scrap of paper pinned to the front of it bore his name.

"Why'd your father send me something?" Harry asked, trying to mask the fear in his voice. He still remembered the man from the train station. He didn't seem to like Harry much at all.

"Dunno," Draco said. "Open it."

Harry took the package from the owl, who then snapped up a piece of toast from his plate and took off the way it had come. Harry tore the wrapping away and his eyes widened. "Is that—"

"A Nimbus Two-Thousand," Draco said, a hint of pride in his voice. "I told my father you made the Quidditch team."

Harry looked at Draco curiously. "But why would your father send me this? He didn't seem to like me when I met him at King's Cross."

Draco smirked. "It's like I said, Harry," he said. "It's all about power in our world. Names and Blood."

"He gave me this, because I'm Harry Potter?" Harry asked in astonishment.

"He gave you this," Draco clarified. "Because you're my friend, and you're not an enemy he wants. It's the way it goes. few want my family as their enemies, and fewer want you as theirs. Between your name and mine, we're untouchable."

"I don't care how much blood matters," Harry insisted several hours later as they were standing outside of Hagrid's hut. "In my world, friendship matters."

"People in your world are bloody gits," Draco hissed at him. He snapped his mouth shut as soon as the door swung open.

"Back, fang!" Hagrid yelled from inside the hut. Harry saw a large dog struggling to get through the door, and Hagrid standing back a ways in the doorway. "Well, c'mon. I ain't gonna hold him back all day."

"Hey Hagrid," Harry said, offering a smile as he slipped into the hut and sat down at the creaky wooden table in the middle of the small room. He glanced towards the doorway to See Draco standing just inside, eyeing Fang suspisciously as Hangrid shut the door. He let go of Fang's collar, and the dog jumped at Harry immediately, licking his face until Hagrid pulled him off again.

"Back, Fang!" Hagrid said. He tied Fang's leash to the bedpost at the other side of the cabin, and finally turned around to look at his visitors. "It's good ter see ya again, Harry," he said, wrapping Harry in a hug. "Thought you'd forgot 'bout me."

"Couldn't forget you, Hagrid," Harry said. "Oh, and this is Draco. Hope you don't mind I invited him."

A second later, Harry wished he hadn't invited Draco. The looks of disgust and hatred exchanged between the two rivaled the looks Snape always gave to that know-it-all Gryffindor girl during Potions class.

"You're Lucius Malfoy's boy, ain't yeh?" Hagrid asked roughly.

"And if I am?" Draco challenged. Harry reached his leg out enough to kick Draco in the ankle, making the blonde glare at him before looking back at Hagrid. "Yes, I am."

Hagrid's glare turned to a look of sad disappointment when he looked back at Harry. "Didn't think you'd mess with the likes of the Malfoys, Harry," he said. "Thought yeh was smarter than that."

Harry looked at Hagrid in shock. Sure, he knew that some people didn't like the Malfoys. Every family had their faults, and pride was a not a small one of the Malfoys'. But Hagrid didn't seem to Harry like the kind of person to judge someone without knowing him.

"You two," Harry said, looking between the two. "Come now. You don't even know each other. You're both my friends. Can we just have a good afternoon? If you hate each other that much, I'll never ask you to see each other again."

Draco grudgingly sat down in the chair beside Harry, arms crossed over his chest. Hagrid's only response was to stand up and walk two strides into the kitchen area of the cabin.

"I'll make us some tea."

The rest of the afternoon passed well enough. Draco didn't speak much for a while, other than to disagree with Harry on his opinion of a class or a professor. When Harry started telling Hagrid how he got on the Quidditch team, though, Draco argued his usual point of why he should've been made a Chaser.

Hagrid didn't mind Draco's company much after the conversation started, and even seemed to enjoy when Draco started telling him about his and Harry's late night practices out on the pitch.

By the time they left just before curfew, Hagrid had already invited them to come back, and Draco had agreed before Harry could say anything.

Harry didn't say much on the walk back to the castle, but he wondered if Draco still believed that names and blood were the only important things.


	4. The Third Floor

"We should go back in," Harry said, touching down onto the grass beside Draco. Blaise landed beside Harry a second later on an old Comet that he'd borrowed off of a second year.

"One more round," Draco said, holding a hand out to Blaise. Blaise handed the broom and a large branch, and pulled out his wand.

"It's getting late," Harry insisted.

"Don't worry so much," Draco said. "Alright, Blaise. Let's go." Draco kicked off from the ground, stopping several yards above the pair to look down at Harry. "Come on, then."

Harry conceded and kicked off from the ground, nodding at Blaise when he was a bit higher up that Draco. Blaise muttered a spell under his breath. A pinecone that Draco had enlarged earlier to the size of a basketball flew up into the air. Harry's eyes were still searching around for the small acorn that Draco had enchanted hours ago, though. He could see it just in front of one of the goalposts.

Just as he was flying towards it, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Harry turned to see Draco swing his branch at the pinecone, rocketing the object towards him. Harry dived and spun out of the way. He looked back towards the goalposts, but the acorn was gone.

This kind of training had been Draco's idea, since they weren't allowed to use the actual Quidditch balls outside of practice. They had started a little over two hours ago, with Draco and Blaise switching positions each time that harry caught the acorn.

As much as Harry hated the regimen, he had to admit it helped him fly better. It was only about a week ago that he'd returned to the Common Room after practice, barely able to move from being hit by the Bludger so many times. Now he only had one or two bruises from the impacts, and none that hurt too badly. Not that Harry would admit to Draco that this practice was a good idea. He had a sneaking suspicion that Draco took a bit too much pleasure in pelting him with pinecones. Any kind of encouragement would not bode well for Harry.

The one round that Draco had insisted on turned into four, and it was well past curfew before the three made their way back towards the castle.

"Quiet," Harry whispered. He glanced just inside the door, breathing out a relieved breath when no one was standing guard there. He walked inside, carefully gesturing for Draco and Blaise to follow him. When he turned back around, he froze.

Two pinpricks of light were shining out from the shadows near the door to the dungeons. "Is that—"

"It's Mrs. Norris," Draco whispered urgently. Sure enough, the cat jumped out from the shadows and meowed almost teasingly at them.

"Mrs. Norris?" a rough old voice called from somewhere just beyond the cat.

"He's coming up from the dungeons," Blaise whispered. Harry felt a hand grab the arm of his robes, and then he was being jerked backwards. "Come on!"

Harry turned around, jogging after Draco and Blaise as they raced up the stairs. Harry wasn't sure how long they ran for, or how many flights up they were.

"In here," Blaise said, reaching for a door. He cursed when it was locked and pulled out his wand.

"Stupid," Draco muttered under his breath, shoving Blaise aside. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the door. "Alohomora," he said. Harry heard a click, and Draco opened the door, ushering them both inside.

"How'd you do that?" Harry asked, still looking at the door. He turned around when he didn't hear an answer. Harry stumbled a step back, his eyes wide. A giant dog with three heads was standing in the middle of the room, seeming just as shocked to see the three boys. The dog got over it's shock faster, though, and started growling, each head leaning towards one of the Slytherins.

"Out!" Blaise yelled. "Open the bloody door! Filch is better than this thing." With all three of them scrambling for the doorknob, it took a few moments before Harry pushed their hands away and was able to open the door. Trying to get out of the room as quickly as possible, they ended up falling to the floor in a pile on the landing outside.

"What was that thing?" Blaise asked, breathing hard and still staring at the door in fear. Harry just shook his head in disbelief.

"Some security system," Draco muttered in shock. "Whatever's there must be bloody important."

"What are you going on about?" Harry asked, looking at Draco as though he'd lost his mind. Honestly. They'd almost their heads taken off by a giant dog that frankly didn't need any more heads. And Draco was going about it guarding something. And he was supposed to be the smart one. Idiot.

"You didn't see what it was standing on?" Draco asked, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why, did it have twelve feet?" Blaise asked sarcastically. "Because in case you didn't notice, it had a couple too many heads."

"It was standing on a trap door," Draco said. He was looking back at the door as though it were a puzzle he couldn't quite figure out.

Harry leaned back against the banister behind him, wondering if that was part of being a wizard. Not being shocked by these kinds of things. If he'd grown up around it… No, actually it would still be terrifying.

"Hey, Harry," Draco started, finally tearing his eyes away from the door to look at Harry. "What was it you said about that break-in at Gringott's?"

"Um, it was the same vault Hagrid and I went to," Harry said, not entirely sure what Draco was getting at.

"Yeah, and Hagrid said Hogwarts was a safer place, right?" Draco asked.

Harry raised his eyebrows, finally piecing it together. He looked back at the door. "You think that dog's guarding whatever Hagrid took from the vault?"

"Why not?" Draco asked.

"Look, guys," Blaise interrupted. "Brilliant and everything, but we need to get back before Filch catches us. I'd rather deal with that dog than my parents if I get expelled."


	5. Trolls and Broomsticks

"But why would you put fake warts on your nose to look like a witch?" Draco asked over the breakfast one morning.

Harry shrugged. "Dudley dressed up as a warlock one year," he continued. "Had a long white beard and everything."

"So Muggles think that all witches have warts and all wizards look like Dumbledore?" Blaise asked.

"Muggles think witches and wizards don't exist," Harry corrected.

"What else do they dress up as?" Draco asked, very amused by Muggles' strange Halloween traditions.

"Princesses and tv characters," Harry said. "Saw a girl dressed up as a unicorn once. She had a rainbow horn."

"Their horns are silver," Blaise said, rolling his eyes at the foolish Muggles for getting that fact wrong. Harry stared at him, eyes wide. "What?"

"You've seen a unicorn?" Harry blurted out.

Draco laughed, earning a hard glare from Harry. "Sorry, sorry," Draco said, still grinning as he reached for another piece of bacon. "Forgot you didn't know anything about our world until a few months ago."

"Only pictures," Blaise said, though he looked like he was trying hard not to laugh as well.

"We should get to class," Harry said, eager to get away from the subject.

"What do we have first?" Draco asked.

"Defense," Blaise said in annoyance. "Worthless class."

Harry didn't comment, but just walked out of the Great Hall with Blaise and Draco on either side of him. Defense Against the Dark Arts was followed by Transfiguration, then Herbology, (which was still not any kind of magic, no matter what Professor Sprout said.)

Harry returned to the Great Hall with Blaise and Draco in time for the Halloween feast. They were just digging into large plates of food when Professor Quirrell burst through the oak doors.

"Troll!" He yelled as he ran. "In the dungeon!" Everyone in the Hall stopped to watch as he ran straight towards the teacher's table, and paused a few feet in front of it, swaying dangerously. His voice quieted to barely a whisper. "Thought you ought to know."

The sound of the professor hitting the stone floor ended the silence. Screams echoed from every table.

"Silence!" Dumbledore's voice rang through the Hall. Everyone quieted, eyes turned towards the Headmaster. "Prefects, please lead the students back to your Houses. Professors, if you'll come with me to the dungeon."

Harry stood, hands clenched as he tried to keep from shaking. A troll?

"How'd a troll get in the castle?" Blaise whispered, leaning towards Harry and Draco.

"Dunno," Draco said. "Trolls are really stupid. Bet it didn't end up here on its own."

"Who would let a troll into the castle?" Harry asked, as the three fell back a bit from the rest of the Slytherins.

All three remained silent as they walked towards the dungeons. Draco suddenly stopped, and Blaise and Harry looked back at him. Draco grabbed the sleeves of both their robes and pulled them into a corridor, where the rest of the students couldn't see them. "Who else do you reckon knows about whatever it is that dog's guarding?"

Blaise shrugged. "Dunno," he said. "The whole staff, probably."

"Let's find out," Harry said in an undertone. He peeked out from the corridor to see that the Entrance Hall was empty. "Come on."

Harry led the way up the staircase, carefully checking around each corner to make sure none of the other students had broken off from their groups. When they reached the third floor, Harry glanced around the corner, jerking back when he saw the door open. Draco and Blaise bumped into him.

Harry turned quickly, motioning for them to be quiet. He glanced around the corner again, eyes widening when he came face to face with Snape.

"P-Professor," Harry stuttered out.

Snape looked furious. His eyes narrowed, one side of his curled into a snarl. His hand clutched at one side of his robes. Harry chanced a glance down to see that his robes were torn and bloody on that side.

"Why are you three out here?" Snape asked.

"Well, w-we were just—" Harry started.

"We were in the library," Blaise said.

"We weren't hungry," Draco continued. "So we were doing some homework. We heard a lot of students in the hall, so came out to see what was going on."

"They told us about the troll," Harry said. "We were just heading back to the Common Room."

Snape didn't seem to believe their story, but Harry knew he wouldn't take points from his own house. "Very well," Snape said. "Go on now. Back to the Common Room. And I don't want to see you three wandering around where you shouldn't be," he finished, eyes locking onto Harry's with a hatred Harry hadn't seen directed at anyone else.

None of them dared speak on the way back down the stairs and into the dungeons. In the Common Room, everyone was speculating as to how the troll got into the castle. Harry followed Draco up the stairs to the boys' dormitory, Blaise just a step behind him.

When Blaise shut the door, Harry looked around to make sure they were the only three there. Even once they were in private, free to speak, no one knew what to say.

"Snape," Draco muttered after several long minutes. "Snape let the troll in."

"Whatever that dog's guarding," Harry said. He didn't even finish the thought.

Harry sat down on his bed. Blaise sat down on his own, facing Harry, and Draco sat beside Harry.

"What do you think it is?" Draco asked after a few minutes.

"Some kind of weapon maybe," Blaise suggested.

"The package was too small," Harry said. "I don't know of any weapon that small."

"Maybe it's worth a lot of money," Draco said.

They made guesses at what the object could be for another hour, until Crabbe and Goyle came up. Harry looked at Draco, silently asking if they should fill them in on what they knew. Draco just shook his head. "Too thick to understand it anyway," he muttered, before standing up and walking over to his own bed.

#####

Discussions about the mysterious object died off over the next few weeks as the first Quidditch game of the year loomed closer. It was Slytherin versus Gryffindor, so, as Draco told Harry in no uncertain terms, they _had_ to win.

Harry of course was terrified for his first game. What if he made a fool of himself? What if the team lost so spectacularly that he was shunned for the rest of his term at Hogwarts? But Harry didn't say that to Draco or Blaise. And the Slytherin locker room, as Harry had learned over the last few months, was no place to express such fears.

So Harry just grit his teeth, plastered on a smile when he walked onto the field, and tried to play as though there weren't hundreds of students watching. As though this were just another practice.

Harry shook the hand of some Gryffindor girl he didn't recognize, who was playing Seeker as well. She looked a few years older than him, and he felt the nerves claw at his stomach again. She must've been playing for years. She was probably a really good Seeker. He didn't stand a chance.

Harry kicked off from the ground, hovering a few yards over the other players as he waited for Madam Hooch to release the Snitch. Amid the yells, harry was able to pick out Draco and Blaise's voices, and glanced towards the part of the crowd that looked like a sea of green and silver.

"…And on the Slytherin team, we have a first," the commentator's voice projected over the field. Harry was pretty sure his name was Jordan. He was a Gryffindor that Draco had cursed continuously when he was telling Harry about the Gryffindor team. Apparently the boy was very good friends with the Weasley twins, who were the beaters on the Gryffindor team. "Harry Potter, a first year, is the Slytherin Seeker."

Jordan proceeded to guess at how Harry had gotten onto the team. His guesses ranged from bribery to blackmail, until his rant was interrupted by a sharp, "Ouch! Um, oh! Madam Hooch has released the Bludgers!" Harry got the distinct impression that one of professors had hit Jordan over the head. He hoped it was Snape.

The Snitch was released next, which flew once towards Harry, then zoomed off in the opposite direction. Madam Hooch threw the Quaffle into the air and blew her whistle. The reaction was instant. Harry and the Gryffindor Seeker flew up and started circling the field. Below, the Chasers each zoomed towards each other in a tangled huddle, until one player flew down and out of the group, towards the Slytherin goal posts.

Harry tore his eyes away from the other players and started scanning the field for the Snitch. He watched the Gyffindor Seeker out of the corner of his eye, making sure she hadn't seen it before he did.

#####

Draco's cheers bled into the roar from the Slytherins as they scored the first goal. He felt Blaise elbow him in the ribs and glanced over.

"Hey, I think Harry's seen the Snitch," he said, pointing towards the field. Draco put his binoculars to his face again, following Harry's progress as he sped towards the Gryffindor goalposts. The broom stopped all of a sudden, nearly throwing Harry off the front of it.

"What's going on?" Draco asked, leaning forward as though that would give him a better view. The broom bucked underneath Harry, jerking forwards and back. Lucian and Derrick, the Slytherin beaters, started flying towards Harry, but the broom jerked further up.

Flint flew straight at Harry, apparently thinking to grab him from the broom before it could evade him, but the broom just took off at full speed towards the other end of the pitch. It stopped again, this time throwing Harry over the front of it. Holding on by one hand, Harry struggled just to keep a grip on the broom.

"Someone's jinxing it," Blaise said quietly to Draco.

"But how?" Draco asked. "A Nimbus Two-Thousand must have some powerful enchantments on it." Blaise didn't say anything, but just snatched the binoculars away from Draco, now scanning the crowd while everyone else was watching the field.

"I don't believe it," Blaise muttered.

"What?" Draco asked, looking in the direction that Blaise had the binoculars pointed.

"Snape," Blaise said, handing the binoculars back to Draco. Draco quickly pressed them against his face again, looking towards the group of teachers in the stands. Sure enough, he could see Snape's lips moving quickly, eyes set intently on Harry.

"What do we do?" Draco asked, turning to look back at Blaise, but he was already gone.

Draco looked back at the field again. Lucian and Derrick were circling several yards under Harry, who was still clinging to the broom with one hand. Flint was above him, making sure the broom didn't drag him any further from the ground. The other two chasers were circling Harry, trying to get close enough to grab him.

The Keeper stayed by the goalposts, but for no real reason. The Gryffindors, to their credit, had stopped playing when Harry's broom started acting out of control. Not to their credit, the Weasley twins were circling outside of the two Slytherin chasers, yelling things like, "The Boy Who Lived to be offed by a broom," and "Hoping for another famous scar, Potter?"

Draco turned the binoculars back towards Snape in time to see a small blue flame erupt at the bottom of his robe. Snape didn't notice until Sprout grabbed his arm, stumbling backwards into Quirrell as she tried to evade the flame. Snape looked away from Harry to stomp out the flame on his robe.

When Draco looked back at Harry, he had managed to swing back onto his broom. Lucian and Derrick were flying up towards him, but Harry just flew straight past them towards the ground, one hand to his mouth. He landed, falling off his broom and onto all fours. He coughed, one hand rising to his mouth again, and Draco saw a glint of gold appear in his hand.

Harry raised the Snitch above his head, looking as shocked as every player on the field. Silence echoed through the stands for a moment, then Slytherins erupted into cheers. Derrick landed beside Harry, clapping him on the back. Lucian, Flint and the others followed a second later, and Harry was hidden from view among the players.

Blaise reappeared beside Draco, face flushed, but with a satisfied smile. "Did we win?"


	6. Invisibility Cloak

A/N: My apologies. Apparently some people were confused about how Hermione escaped from the mountain troll at Halloween. So I'll clear that up in this chapter.

Christmas was fairly close, and Harry was torn. On one hand, he was glad to be getting away from Hogwarts for a little while. People still stared at him. Well, not at him. At his scar. It got annoying sometimes. More than that, people always seemed disappointed. He didn't know why, until one day overheard a Ravenclaw in the hallway whisper to her friend, "Mum always told me about what a hero he was. Slytherin scum isn't much of a hero in my book."

Not to mention that Weasley, Granger and Longbottom were unbearable lately. Ever since Halloween, Weasley took every opportunity to tell the story of how he took down a mountain troll to save Hermione. At first, the story was how Neville ended up with his wand up the troll's nose, and Ron levitated the troll's club to hit him over the head. The story soon grew into how Neville lost his wand and had to wrestle the troll. Ron heroically carried Hermione out of harm's way before returning to kill the troll with a single flick of his wand.

Weasley was nothing more than a very lucky git.

So yes, Harry was grateful to take a break from it for a little while.

On the other hand, the reason he was getting away from the castle was because Draco's father had invited him to spend the holidays with them at the manor. Blaise had been invited too, but was spending the holidays with his own family. Harry was still wary of Draco's father, and only hoped his mother wasn't as intimidating.

And that was how Harry ended up back in King's Cross beside Draco, a backpack slung over his shoulder holding some clothes, his wand, a couple books he needed to do some homework, and an early Christmas present that had been sent anonymously to his dorm that morning, and with Hedwig's cage hanging limply in one hand.

"Relax," Draco hissed at him. "It's a vacation not a death sentence."

Harry just nodded, his eyes following Draco's as the blonde looked back through the crowd. Harry swallowed hard an forced a polite smile when he saw Mr. Malfoy walking towards them, a woman with two-toned hair on his arm.

Draco immediately went forward to hug his mother. Harry held out a hand to Mr. Malfoy, smiling as politely as he could while trying to keep his composure.

"Mr. Malfoy," Harry said politely.

"Mr. Potter," Mr. Malfoy said, hesitating only a moment before shaking Harry's hand. His voice sounded almost slimy. Harry didn't know that was possible. "How wonderful to see you again."

"Ah, you must be Harry," Mrs. Malfoy said, leaning forward to hug him as soon as Mr. Malfoy had released his hand.

"Um, hi Mrs. Malfoy," Harry said, hugging her back lightly. She at least seemed warmer than Draco's father. "Nice to meet you."

Mr. Malfoy shepherded them back out of the station and down an alleyway. Draco grabbed his mom's arm, and Mr. Malfoy held his arm out to harry without a word. Harry knew what this was. Draco had explained to them how they would be getting back to the manor. He was still nervous, though, when he reached out and put a hand on Mr. Malfoy's arm.

The air felt too thin, and his body felt like it was being squeezed. He felt his shoulder bump against Mr. Malfoy's, then his feet hit solid ground again. He stumbled forward, arms immediately reaching towards the closest thing to steady himself. That happened to be Mr. Malfoy. The man just grabbed his shoulder to steady him, though.

"First time, dear?" Mrs. Malfoy asked when Harry looked like he was about to be sick.

Harry just straightened up and cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah, I'm fine." He tried to quiet Hedwig, who was now noisily clattering around in her cage.

"Come on," Draco said, gesturing for Harry to follow him as he started towards a large grand staircase. "I'll show you to the guest wing. And we can let Hedwig out the upstairs window."

Harry barely caught himself from stammering out the words 'guest wing?' but it was a close thing. He had expected a cot in Draco's room or possibly a guest room. But a guest wing? But then, looking around at the entryway, which was larger than his and aunt and uncle's entire house, was wondered for a moment why the thought of a guest wing surprised him.

"This is amazing," Harry breathed, eyes moving constantly as he took in the entire place, while trying to memorize the path. Somehow, he knew it would be very easy to get lost here.

Draco pointed out everything in the guest wing as they walked through. There was a large bathroom, a sitting area with a table, though Draco said that Harry would be eating all meals downstairs with the rest of the family. The bedroom was large by normal standards. By Harry's standards, which ranged somewhere around the size of his cupboard under the stairs, it was magnificent.

Draco opened a window on the far side of the room. "You can let Hedwig out here," he said. "She'll like flying around. And there's a perch just there if she wants to come back inside," he added, pointing to a tall, gold-colored (for all Harry knew maybe it was real gold,) owl perch a few feet from the window.

Harry just nodded, not quite able to speak. He dropped his backpack to the floor, its dusty, worn exterior clashing horribly with the clean perfection of the rom. He set down Hedwig's cage and knelt in front of it, undoing the catch on the front and opening the iron door. Hedwig flew past him in a rush, glad to spread her wings as she soared out the window.

"Well, let's see it then," Draco said, snapping Harry out of his reverie.

"What?" Harry asked.

"The present," Draco said. "You brought it, didn't you?"

"Oh, right," Harry said, opening his backpack and pulling out a neatly wrapped, though now slightly rumpled, package. There was no name on the package. His only clue was that the person had known his father. And borrowed whatever this was from him. "Maybe I should wait. Christmas isn't for a few more days."

"Don't be thick," Draco said. "Just open it."

Harry conceded and pulled the ribbon off the package. He tore the wrapping paper, and a silky, almost water fabric pooled in his hand. Harry stood up, holding out the robe to its full length.

"Try it on," Draco said. Harry wrapped the robe around his shoulders, looking at Draco for approval. But Draco's eyes only widened. He circled Harry once, then went back to retrieve the card from the wrapping paper.

Curious, Harry looked down and saw… Nothing. "I'm invisible," Harry said, shocked.

Draco looked back at Harry, as though trying to figure something out. "My father had a cloak like this," he said. "The spell wore off of it after a while, though. If your father had this before… Whoever had it must have recast the enchantments on it."

The words didn't mean much to Harry. All he knew was that this was the best gift he'd ever received… Granted, clothes hangers and toothpicks weren't difficult gifts to top, but still.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this. There will be more at the manor in the next chapter. Just, the next part will be rather long, and all needed to go together. I can't say when the next chapter will be up, since I'll be out of town for a few days. But please, leave a review. They inspire me and make me happy. :)


	7. The Dark Lord

A/N: I can't promise all updates will come this quickly, but the next couple of chapters have been planned out in my head for a good while. Here's part two of Harry and Draco's Christmas at Malfoy Manor.

#####

It was past midnight and Harry was still lying awake. He reached blindly towards the bedside table, and picked up his glasses. He put them on, and looked at his watch sitting on the table. Harry picked it up, noting that there was only about five hours before he and Draco would on the train back to Hogwarts. It was a gold watch with little Snitches flying around on the face of it that Mrs. Malfoy had given him for Christmas.

Christmas had been very different from what he was used to. He'd actually gotten gifts this year. And not the terrible gifts his aunt and uncle always begrudgingly gave him, either.

The best gift, though, had come from Mr. Malfoy, which scared Harry immensely. He wasn't sure why the man had given him a Nimbus Two-Thousand in the first place, when Harry was still certain the man held a certain disdain for him. For Christmas, though, Mr. Malfoy gave him a Quidditch jersey. On the back, it bore the name Blythe Parkin, the Seeker on England's Quidditch Team, as well as the player's signature.

Harry set the watch back down on the bedside table and grabbed the invisibility cloak from his backpack. Sitting here wasn't helping him get to sleep. It was his last night in the manor, and he'd hardly seen much of the place. He'd seen the living area downstairs, the dining room, guest wing and Draco's room.

He knew just from how many closed doors he passed the last few days that there was a lot more to the home. Curious, Harry wrapped himself in the cloak, walking in front of a full length mirror against the wall just to make sure he was completely invisible, then set off down the hallway. His eyes moved across the paintings, and he wondered vaguely if the cloak worked on them. When one of the portraits yawned and looked right past him, though, Harry breathed easier and continued on his way.

A loud crash caught Harry's attention, and he moved quickly down the hall, careful to keep his footsteps light as he approached a door just down from the dining room. The door swung open and a curious little creature rushed out of the room. It didn't even come up to Harry's waist, and had long ears, and was wearing what appeared to be an empty potato sack.

"Oh, Dobby must get this cleaned up," the creature was whispering hurriedly to itself. "Master Malfoy will not be happy if things are not prepared for masters and Mr. Potter. Not happy at all."

Harry remembered Draco mentioning something about a creature that prepared their meals and cleaned the manor. "Always present but never seen," Draco had said. House elf, Harry was pretty sure Draco had called it.

As the house elf, Dobby, Harry guessed, rushed back into the room, a dustpan and broom in hand, Harry looked past it to see that a large tray of food was decorating the stone floor in the kitchen. Eggs and bacon were strewn around as Dobby started to clean.

Harry walked past the kitchen and continued down the hallway. He walked up another flight of stairs, and turned left when he reached the landing. At the end of the hall stood a large wooden oak door. It didn't any more grand or different than any of the other doors in the manor, but for some reason Harry felt himself drawn towards the room.

When he found it unlocked, Harry quietly pushed the door in, stepping through and shutting it behind him. "Lumos," Harry whispered. The end of his wand lit up, revealing the room to be a more massive library than the one Harry had often hidden in at school when Dudley and his gang were trying to find him.

Harry walked among the rows of books, looking from one title to the next. Some were hard to read, the letters faded on them considerably. Most were covered in layers of dust, untouched probably for decades. When he reached the far wall, one shelf of books stood out against the others. The dust had been wiped away from the shelf in front of them, and the books all looked rather new.

The titles of the books made Harry want to back away from not only the shelf, but also the home in general. Harry almost picked up one titled, "Jinxes for the Wicked at Heart," but instead his hand landed on "Dark Magic for the Dark Wizard." For the first time, he started to wonder how much he knew about the family that he had so willing come to stay with for the last week.

With a shaking hand, Harry removed the book from the shelf. When he flipped it open, the gruesome images on the pages drew an almost inaudible gasp from his throat. Harry slammed the book shut, the sound echoing in the empty library.

Harry hurriedly pushed the book back onto the shelf, but the shelf seemed to move further away. Harry jumped back, the book falling to the ground as the bookcase slid against the wall, a small alcove revealed behind it. Harry glanced over his shoulder, knowing that no one was behind him, but still wary as he stepped into the alcove.

To the side, just behind the bookcase, he could see stairs going down. Holding his wand in front of him, Harry walked carefully down the stairs. The flickering light of his wand revealed nothing more than what looked like a small stone room, no more than seven feet in either direction. The only thing notable about the room was that every surface of the walls was covered in newspaper clippings. Harry leaned close to read the nearest one.

"Muggles Tortured in London." "Death Eaters Invade Hogsmeade." "Muggle-Born Witch Murdered in Home." "Fourteen Confirmed Dead in Diagon Alley." A gory, bloody photograph accompanied every article. In most, people pleaded, then a flash of light ended their life.

There was only one wall that had a single article on it. The bottom of the article was burned so that only the title of it, a short subtitle under it, and a picture remained. In the picture was only a house, burning to the ground. If he squinted, Harry was sure he could see something flying into the clouds. It almost looked like a bicycle or a motorcycle. Harry's eyes moved to the name of the article, and his wand hit the floor. The light was dim from further away, but the words still burned in Harry's mind. "You-Know-Who Vanquished At Last," the subtitle under it read, "Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived."

Harry fumbled for his wand, his knees hitting the floor for a moment before he snatched up the still lit wand and rushed back up the stairs. He hoped the Malfoys were all still asleep. He was running now, the cloak so loose around him that he knew his feet and head must have been showing.

Harry dodged the door to the kitchen as it opened again, but Dobby didn't seem to even notice Harry as he shuffled around the elf and continued his fast pace towards the guest wing.

When he finally reached the room, harry collapsed onto the bed, tears streaming from his eyes. He leaned over the side of the bed, sure he was going to be sick, but nothing came up. He just stared weakly at the plush carpet.

He knew. He heard the talk. He knew that Voldemort had had followers. That some were still loyal. He knew the rumors about Slytherin House. He knew the stories and the whispers alike. He'd never paid much attention to it. But now he had to wonder.

Who were these people?

#####

"Oi, Harry," Draco said. Harry blinked, looking away from the train window and over at Draco. "What's with you?"

Harry glanced back at the compartment door. Blaise had gone to get some sweets, but Harry didn't know how long he would be gone.

"Who were your parents?" harry asked finally. "Before Voldemort—" Draco flinched "—disappeared?"

Draco shrugged. "Why's it matter?" he asked.

"It matters," Harry pressed. He waited a moment, and when Draco didn't answer, he asked quietly, "Were they Death Eaters?"

Draco looked back up at Harry, his gaze now guarded and defensive. "And if they were?" he asked.

"He killed my parents," Harry said.

"I know that," Draco said. "It's in the past anyway. What's it matter?"

"Because it's not just in the past," Harry said. "What if they had the chance to rejoin him? Would they? Would you?"

"What use is asking?" Draco asked. "Hypothetical questions don't solve anything."

"It's not hypothetical," Harry said, now getting angry. "You said it. Hagrid said it. He's not dead. It's not a matter of _if_ anymore. It's just _when._" Draco didn't say anything, his icy glare turned towards the trees flying past out the window. "And when it happens," Harry continued in a quieter, though still firm tone. "I don't know whose side you're on."

Draco let out a loud breath and turned to look back at Harry. "This is a stupid discussion," he said. "For one, you don't even know if it'll happen. And second, if the Dark Lord did—"

Harry choked out a bitter laugh, a disgusted look on his face as he looked back at Draco. It wasn't You-Know Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Draco had called him the Dark Lord. Harry didn't know much about what had happened when Voldemort was in power. But he knew this: no one that he talked to that had ever fought against Voldemort had ever called him the Dark Lord.

Leaving a stunned Draco, harry stormed out of the compartment, pushing past Blaise who was just coming down the hallway. He ignored Blaise's calls after him, and locked himself in an empty compartment for the rest of the train ride.

#####

A/N: And there you go. That was my main reason for having Harry spend Christmas at the manor. Maybe it was a bit too much too soon with the Voldemort thing? I just wanted harry to know exactly where the Malfoys stood from the beginning. Let me know if that was too much too fast for Harry. I live off your reviews. :)


	8. Of Flammel and A Curious Mirror

"Oi, Harry," Harry turned around, pausing to let Blaise catch up to him. "What's with you lately?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, turning to continue on his way to the lake. It was Saturday, five days after he'd returned from Christmas break. He had a few books in one arm, his other hand twirling his wand absentmindedly.

"I mean how you keep running off," Blaise said. "You and Draco haven't spoken since we got back."

Harry shrugged. "Just busy," he said. "Got to study twice as hard as him to get good marks."

"That's bollocks," Blaise said. "Even when Draco and I are studying in the Common Room you leave to go to the library." Harry stopped when Blaise snatched one of his books away, waving it accusingly in front of him. "And why do you have this? The transfiguration essay isn't due for three more weeks."

"Early start," Harry said, snatching the book back. To be honest, the books were more of a cover. If Draco knew he was going to talk to Hagrid, he'd want to know why.

"Lying," Blaise said, his glare never wavering.

Harry considered his friend for a moment. He knew that Blaise's parents were good friends with the Malfoys. It was entirely possible that they had been Death eaters too. On the other hand, Blaise didn't seem to care about his family's opinion as much as Draco did. If it came down to it, Blaise would probably be just as likely to side with his friends.

"Alright, come on," Harry said, nodding as he started to walk again. "We're going to talk to Hagrid."

"What for?" Blaise asked.

"I want to know what that dog is guarding," Harry said.

#####

When they left Hagrid's hut some three or four hours later, full of tea and barely-edible biscuits, Harry only had one clue as to what the dog was guarding: Nicholas Flammel. He didn't know the significance of the name. Had never heard it. But he was somehow connected to Dumbledore and to the whatever-it-was.

"No luck," Blaise said as he dropped onto the seat next to Harry in the Great Hall. He made a face at a plate of biscuits and pushed them away.

"Same here," Harry said, stabbing a pork chop on the end of his fork and pulling it onto his plate. "It's like Flammel doesn't even exist."

"Hi Blaise," Draco said pointedly as he set his tray in front of Blaise and sat across from him. Harry shot a glare at Draco before standing up.

"I'll catch up with you tomorrow, Blaise," Harry said, ignoring the blonde as he walked from the Great Hall.

That night, Harry waited until he was sure Draco was asleep. He crept over to Blaise's bed, but the other boy was asleep as well. Harry debated for a long moment over whether or not to wake him. But his idea was a long shot anyway. No point in waking him.

With that, Harry pulled the invisibility cloak out of his trunk, pulled it over his shoulders, and snuck out of the dormitory. The Common Room was empty except for a girl, (Harry thought her name was Pansy,) asleep in a chair in front of the fire.

The dungeons were deserted, though the flickering candlelight that lit the corridors didn't give Harry any feeling of relief. When he got to the second floor, Harry had to duck into an alcove to avoid Peeves. He didn't know if the cloak worked on ghosts, and if he were going to try it, Peeves wouldn't be his first choice for a test subject.

Harry waited for a few minutes after Peeve's laughter had faded, before hurrying up the next flight of stairs. Once he reached the library, he found the restricted section near the back. He slipped down the hallway, carefully looking over his shoulder every few feet. Harry lit his wand, holding it just outside of the protection of the cloak so he could read the book titles.

Harry went through a few books about rare magical items and recent famous wizards, but found nothing of use. It must have been around three in the morning before he put the last book on the shelf and grabbed his cloak from the floor.

Harry froze when he heard voices.

"S-Severus," Quirrell's shaking voice came from around the corner. "P-Please."

"Who's side are you on?" Snape's slimy voice joined the first. Harry crept closer, one hand over his mouth to keep his breathing quiet. "Now is the time to decide."

A second later a loud, obnoxious voice screamed over Quirrell's next words. "Ickle firstie out of bed!"

"Peeves!" Harry hissed, but the ghost just cackled as he flew away. He quickly pulled the cloak over himself as he heard footsteps running towards him. Harry rushed between the rows of books. Out in the corridor, Harry saw a door barely ajar at the end of the hall. Glancing back over his shoulder, Harry made a beeline for it, just ducking through and shutting the door before Snape and Quirrell came out of the library.

The breath in his lungs didn't release until he heard the footsteps dying away. Harry still wasn't sure that going back into the corridor was the best decision yet, so he turned around to see what room he'd accidently stumbled in to. There was a mirror in the middle of the room. That was it.

Harry walked towards it, dropping the cloak from around his shoulder so he could see his reflection. And he did see his reflection. Only, it wasn't only his. Harry glanced over his shoulder, but no one stood in the room with him.

When he turned his gaze back to the mirror, he saw the same two people still standing on either side of him. The man on his right had glasses, and black, messy hair that resembled Harry's. Harry looked to the woman on his left. She had long red hair, and a bright smile. What made his breath catch in his throat, though, were her eyes. They were the same emerald green that his were.

Harry looked from the woman, to the man and back again. "Mum?" he whispered. The woman only smiled brighter. "Dad," Harry said, the word not even sounding like a question. The man smiled and nodded.

Harry turned to look behind him again. No one was there. Unsure of the time, and uncaring whether or not the Snape and Quirrell were still outside in the corridor, Harry settled onto the floor in front of the mirror and sat there until light peeked through the window.


	9. Someone to Guide You

Harry hated Potions. Snape seemed to hate him, even though he tended to treat the Gryffindors worse, it was always double potions, so he couldn't even look forward to a quick escape from the class, and he was now partnered with Goyle.

It wasn't that he disliked Goyle. He just preferred having Draco as his partner in the class. Draco always did well, and now Blaise was the one doing absolutely nothing while Draco did all the work. Not that Harry had been able to do nothing when he worked with Draco. Snape wouldn't let him get away with that. But now Harry was stuck not only with doing all the work, but also with keeping Goyle from screwing it up by adding the newt eyes too soon, or cutting the polyps instead of crushing them.

Unfortunately, Goyle and Crabbe had become Harry's new best friends. Blaise joined him to study in the library sometimes, but he was busy trying to stay on equal ground with both Harry and Draco.

"That supposed to happen?" Goyle asked.

Harry looked over his shoulder. He'd asked Goyle to do a very simple task. Put some of the potion in a vial for Snape to grade. The vial, Harry saw, was now dripping liquid glass onto the stone floor.

"What did you do?" Harry asked, trying not to sound too angry.

"What you told me to," Goyle said. "Stir it three times, then bottle it."

"I said let it simmer three minutes, then bottle it," Harry said, his voice shaking slightly in his effort to stay calm.

Harry groaned, shaking his head as he three the rest of his supplies into his bag and pulled it over his shoulder, aware that he was looking at a failing grade for the class that day.

Blaise didn't join him in the library after dinner, though Harry did receive an owl asking him if he'd found anything on Flammel. Disheartened at his lack of progress, and honestly having completely forgotten all about Flammel, Harry didn't respond.

Harry waited in the Common Room until he was fairly certain that both Draco and Blaise would be asleep, then went upstairs to get his invisibility cloak.

The night after he'd discovered the mirror, Harry returned back to it. On his way out of the dorm, he'd had a sudden urge to wake Draco and take him so Draco could finally see Harry's parents. Harry didn't have any pictures to show, so the mirror was a wonderful thing in his opinion. Then he of course remembered that he wasn't speaking to Draco. Harry had considered waking Blaise, but didn't really want to share the magical mirror with him. For now, it was a secret he wanted to keep to himself.

Harry returned again for the third night to the room with the mirror. He sat in front of it for a while as he had the nights before. His parents seemed content to sit there with him as well.

It wasn't until an hour or so after midnight that Harry heard a rustling behind him that made him reach for his cloak.

"Back again, are we?"

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked, standing up and turning towards the Headmaster. "How did you know I was here?"

"A secret that I'll keep to myself for now," Dumbledore said, a twinkle in the blue eyes that bore into Harry's. "Just know that some of us have no need for a cloak to become invisible to others."

Harry stayed silent, waiting for Dumbledore to reprimand him for being out of bed, but the Headmaster only walked past him, eyes set on the mirror.

"It is a wonderful object, the Mirror of Erised," Dumbledore said. "I expect you have determined the use of it?"

"It shows me my parents," Harry said hesitantly. He was sure the mirror's function was much intricate than that; he just didn't know what it was.

"I'll give you a hint," Dumbledore said, turning away from the mirror to look at harry again. "The happiest man in the world would look into this mirror and see himself exactly as he is."

Harry considered the statement for a moment. "So, it shows us what we want," Harry said.

"In a way, it does," Dumbledore said. "The Mirror of Erised shows you your heart's deepest desire." Harry was silent for a long moment, eyes turned towards the mirror. Finally, Dumbledore broke the silence. "What troubles you, Harry?"

Harry shook his head, looking back up at the man. "It's just strange," he said. "I never thought I'd ever see my parents. Much less lifelike images, moving and smiling at me."

Dumbledore smiled. "Yes, magic is a wondrous thing," he said. "Of course, I was never struck by it as fully as you have been. I grew up with it, you see. Where as you grew up without it. Taught to believe that magic and spells were all make believe."

Harry nodded, though Dumbledore was no longer looking at him. "It's weird," Harry said. "Wake up one day, and everything you believe isn't true anymore."

"How are you adjusting to the changes, Harry?" He asked.

Harry shrugged. "Takes some getting used to," he said honestly.

Dumbledore nodded, smiling in a way that made Harry wonder how much the older wizard knew. "It's difficult to get away from the way you were raised," he said. Dumbledore turned back to Harry and smiled. "But it helps if you have someone along to guide you." Harry stood, dumbfounded as Dumbledore started towards the door. "Good night, Harry."

Harry decided at that moment that Dumbledore wasn't an ordinary wizard. He wasn't sure how. But he always seemed to know things that had no way of knowing. Without a second thought, Harry grabbed his cloak and raced back towards the Slytherin Common Room. The Mirror of Erised hadn't been his secret in the first place. He might as well share it with one more.

Harry silently crept into the dorm and shook Draco's shoulder. "Wake up," he whispered. Draco just rolled over with a soft grunt. A second later, harry whipped the sheets off of the blonde, making him jump and shiver, glaring around at the nothingness. Harry dropped the cloak from his head, and could see that Draco almost screamed, but put a hand against his mouth to keep him quiet.

He pulled back when he saw Draco relax, his brain catching up to what was going on. "Come on," Harry said. "Get dressed. I want to show you something."

A/N: Comments? Opinions? You know I love them. And they inspire me to write more when I know you wonderful readers are enjoying this story.


	10. Voldemort's RightHand Man

A/N: Now, I'm not above begging for reviews. There are fifty-something alerts for this story, so I know a lot of people are reading it. So please, please leave me a review. Let me know what you think, what you would like to see happen, leave suggestions, anything.

#####

"Flammel?" Draco asked. He, Harry and Blaise were in the library the next day, their half-finished Potions essays set aside for the moment. "Sounds familiar."

"Really?" Harry asked. "Cause we can't find him anywhere."

"It's like he doesn't even exist," Blaise said. "Hagrid said that Dumbledore knows him, though."

"He'd never tell us anything," Harry said.

"So you two haven't figured out anything," Draco pointed out.

"We have a name," harry said defensively.

"Well, while you were finding a name, I actually found something useful," Draco said.

"And what's that?" Harry asked.

"How to get past Cerberus," Draco said.

"Who?" Harry asked.

"Cerberus," Blaise said. "Of course. I should have recognized it."

"It took me a while to figure it out," Draco said. "I found a chapter about it in an old book my father sent me."

"What are you two on about?" Harry asked.

"The three-headed dog on the third floor," Blaise said. "It's a Cerberus."

"How's that help us?" Harry asked.

"Because I know how to get past it," Draco said. "Music puts it to sleep."

"Out like a light," Blaise said.

"At least we know Snape doesn't know that," Harry said. "He would've gotten past that thing on Halloween."

"So what do we do?" Blaise asked. "Hope Snape never figures it out, or go past the dog and get whatever it is ourselves?"

Draco crossed his arms and leaned against the table. "It's too easy," he said. "There has to be more than just the Cerberus protecting it. Or Dumbledore wouldn't have wanted it moved from Gringotts."

Harry groaned, moving his hand up to the scar of his forehead.

"You alright?" Draco asked.

"Fine," Harry said, dropping his hand and turning to look out the window. The smoke from Hagrid's hut caught his eye. "Dumbledore won't tell us anything, but maybe we can get Hagrid to talk to us again."

#####

"I already told yer more'n I should have," Hagrid said, waving them inside the hut. He pulled a pot from a shelf and started boiling water on the stove. Harry, Draco and Blaise sat down at the wooden table in the middle of the room.

"We just wanted to ask if anything else is protecting whatever it is," Harry said carefully. "We think someone's trying to steal it."

"Believe me," Hagrid said, turning to face them. "No one's getting past Fluffy."

"The Cerberus?" Draco asked in disbelief. "You named it Fluffy?"

"Well o' course," Hagrid said.

"In any case, getting past the Cer—eh, Fluffy, is easy," Draco said. "We know all you have to do is play music. Is anything else guarding it?"

Hagrid pursed his lips, apparently unhappy that they had figured out that much. "No one's trying ter steal it," Hagrid said. "Who would try, anyway?"

"Snape," harry said without thinking, earning glares from Draco and Blaise. But Harry ignored them and continued. "We saw him come out of that door on Halloween. When the troll was in the dungeon."

"Professor Snape wouldn't be doin' that," Hagrid said. "He's one of the professors protecting the sto—" Hagrid cut off quickly, covering with a cough, but Harry wondered what he had been about to say.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Draco's eyebrows shoot up, and made a mental note to ask him about it later.

"How many people are protecting it?" Blaise asked.

"Enough that no one's gonna get them all," Hagrid said. "You three just stop worryin'."

"Yeah, alright, Hagrid," Draco said quickly, standing up before the tea was even ready. "We get it, thanks. We should get going."

Harry and Blaise followed Draco's lead, saying their good-byes and leaving.

"What was he about to say?" Harry hissed.

Draco shook his head waiting until they were on the bank of the lake, far out of earshot from the hut. "The stone," Draco said. "The stone. Flammel. I knew I recognized the name."

"I'm not following," Harry said.

"Nicholas Flammel is over six-hundred years old," Draco said.

"That's not possible," Harry said.

"Just listen," Draco said impatiently. "He's an alchemist. Six hundred and whatever years ago, he figured out how to live forever. It's not a permanent thing. He has to keep taking it. But it will keep him alive forever. It's called the Sorcerer's Stone."

Harry stared at Draco in disbelief. "You mean, that's what Fluffy's guarding?" Harry asked. "The Sorcerer's Stone."

"It makes sense," Draco said.

"And that's what Snape's trying to steal," Blaise said.

"But why would he risk getting killed by Fluffy just to get something that will keep him alive forever?" Harry asked. "Seems a bit stupid."

"Maybe it's not for him," Draco said slowly. Harry swore he saw fear in Draco's eyes when they met his again.

"For who, then?" Harry asked.

Draco hesitated, glancing around to make sure they were still alone. "Before The Dark—Sorry, You-Know-Who fell, Snape was a Death Eater," Draco said. "Father said Snape was in His inner circle. You-Know-Who's right-hand man."

For a moment, it was as if Harry couldn't breathe. His chest tightened and his throat clenched.

"You—you think," Harry started in a weak voice. "Snape's trying to get the stone. For Voldemort?"

"We have to tell someone," Blaise said.

"Who?" Draco asked. "Can't exactly go to our Head of House. And I don't know where Dumbledore's office is."

"McGonagall is like Dumbledore's second in command, right?" Harry asked. "If something happened to him, she would take over the school."

#####

Unfortunately, the only thing they gathered from a conversation with McGonagall was a good lecture about why they shouldn't know what they know, and that Dumbledore was away. Left that day, actually, for something in London.

"If Dumbledore's away…" Draco's voice trailed off. They were standing in a alcove on the fourth floor, their voices quieting whenever they thought they heard footsteps.

"Then Snape will try again," Harry finished the thought for him.

"So we'll go down the trapdoor tonight," Draco said. Blaise nodded.

Harry was surprised not only that they were so willing to go along with the plan, but also that Draco had voiced the plan before Harry had had a chance to. But then, maybe that was just a Slytherin thing.

#####

A/N: Sorry I didn't include the conversation with McGonagall. But I would've just been rewriting what's in the book and in the movie. No point to it. This story will be ending soon, but don't worry. I fully intend to continue this into the Chamber of Secrets, and further if I can stay concentrated on the project for that long. Now please, please leave me a review. I adore them so much, and it helps me to write more. I'd love to hear suggestions, feedback, comments, anything!


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